


Just Like Always

by malaguenas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:33:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1918290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malaguenas/pseuds/malaguenas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There always seems to be a moment in every silence when Dean honestly believes that someone is watching over him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Always

There always seems to be a moment in every silence when Dean honestly believes that someone is watching over him.

When he's alone in the office.

When he paces the floors of his home searching for life's answers.

When he finally opts for the slightest hint of sleep.

All the time it seems that he's not alone. He can feel the eyes of someone on him, watching him constantly, but when he turns around, the space around him is always empty.

This feeling has been with Dean for weeks now.

Each time Dean swears he feels those eyes he gets a certain feeling deep within him.

It feels like he is on the edge of a memory. So close, but yet constantly out of reach.

The feeling only seems to intensify with every instance he feels that gaze on him, seemingly assessing Dean's very significance.

It makes Dean feel unbelievably uneasy.

He was nothing special.

Dean Smith. Just another office worker in the workforce. The most noteworthy part of his week was the new employee who, quite frankly, seemed far too into those supernatural type stories.

Dean's life was typical: an over used troupe begging to be disposed of.

That's why, like he does every Thursday evening, Dean was sitting at his table, sipping at a beer in an attempt to wash away his terrible day at work.

Nothing was different.

Nothing was changing.

Dean still, as usual, stared blankly at the frame of the Ikea-made table wondering about its own significance. 

It carried the weight of countless items, it silently agreed to hear each one of Dean's late night confessions and dealt with Dean's impending alcoholism without complaint.

Of course it was not living, but sometimes Dean felt that the only thing he could do more than the table is sign paperwork and call clients.

This was nothing new to Dean.

As suddenly as it always seemed to start, Dean felt the eyes on him once again. The event temporarily stopped his depressing mental tirade and his thoughts quickly shifted to his mysterious observer.

As soon as these thoughts flooded his brain, two words echoed through Dean's mind.

_You're wrong._

They were said in an unplaceable voice and upon hearing them resonate through his head, Dean whipped his head around. Upon doing so he could have sworn that he could also hear the sound of birds' wings.

Behind him there was nothing but the typical empty space.

Just like always.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this is my first completed fic. I have two others, which are much longer, in the works. Stay tuned!


End file.
